


It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

by Jinx (jinx37kat)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-12-18
Updated: 1997-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinx37kat/pseuds/Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sights, sounds, smells of Christmas + a sensitive sentinel = zones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Ever since October came around, one could not get away from Christmas. The stores were determined to set up their Christmas displays even before Halloween and Thanksgiving started. They were practically up the day after school started. Fall in Cascade, as it was all over America, was a hodge-podge of holidays bright enough, loud enough, and smelly enough to annoy even the most normal of humans. But for one certain sentinel, fall was the beginning of a three month hell.

Okay, so "hell" was a harsh word. But, damn it, if Jim had to smell "Harvest Spice" air freshener one more time when he walked into a department store, or see "twinkling pumpkins, turkeys and/or santas", or hear "Deck The Halls" again, he was going to have to kill something. They might get him for justifiable homicide. But, that's legal. Especially during the holidays.

And if the holidays weren't bad enough, fall had to bring with it shitty weather. Several times in the past several years, Jim thought of several warmer climates he would rather live in. But, alas, Cascade was his home and home he would stay. Especially now that he had someone to stay for. Although, he probably wouldn't have a difficult time convincing his "other half" to go somewhere warmer for six months of the year. But, their jobs were in Cascade. Their friends were in Cascade. Their lives were in Cascade. Cascade was stuck with them.

Sighing, Jim heaved himself out of his truck and trudged through the snow and slush to the front door of their building. After checking the mail, he slowly made his way up the stairs to the loft. He unlocked the door with more enthusiasm than he felt and stepped into the room. He barely got one foot in before his nose was assaulted by "Harvest Spice" air freshener. Stifling the urge to gag, Jim took his first look around the loft and was horrified by the sight.

In the corner by the fireplace, was a Christmas tree decked out in all its splendor: lights blinked and twinkled, garland wrapped its way from the bottom of the fake tree to the very top, ornaments adorned each and every branch (and then some), and an angel sat atop the tree with a branch up her skirt.

If that wasn't enough, lights hung around the windows and were strung around the beams in the kitchen. Lights also wound around the bannister of the stairs all the way up to the loft room where there was...oh, no...yes, there was, another smaller tree on a stand in the corner of the room. Just as decorated as the tree in the living room.

Beside the tree in the living room were two tables, one on each side. The table closest to the window held a menorah for chanukah and the other table had a bowl of pine cones, red apples, cinnamon sticks and holly surrounded by a pine wreath. Incense was burning in a small bowl in front of the menorah, as it was on the television, in the kitchen, in the spare room, and the loft room.

Sitting on top of the television beside the incense was a paper turkey; and brown and orange streamer hung from the ceiling. Cardboard cut-outs of turkeys and pilgrims were plastered on the wall and on the door to the balcony, as were cut-outs of witches, skeletons, ghosts, and pumpkins.

Outside, the balcony was decorated with carved pumpkins already lighting the Cascade night with candles in their gutted bodies.

And in the middle of all this was one Blair Sandburg, in the kitchen with his arm elbow deep in another pumpkin, digging out the innards to pile them into a bowl. He was looking at Jim with the biggest smile on his face.

Jim blinked at the overwhelming-ness of it all and turned to his roommate.

Not only was Blair being consumed by the pumpkin that was at least as big as their 19" television, but he had pumpkin guts stuck to his face and in his hair.

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He stood with one foot in the loft and one out not knowing what to do. He was froze to the spot. The only thing that seemed to be able to move on his body was his head and his eyes. Nothing else worked. He turned to the display that was his house and...

 

"Jim? Come on, babe. Follow my voice back to me, okay? Come on, Jim, you can do it. Just listen to my voice and follow the sound back."

Jim found himself sitting on the couch, or rather, slouched on the couch with a very worried Blair glued to his side. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his jacket and shoes, and a blanket had been placed over him tucked tightly around his legs. A hand was clasped between two desperate ones and was being squeezed and rubbed rhythmically.

"Jim?!" The guide voice quickly slipping away to the concerned lover's voice. "Jim, please!"

"Huhgn?" His senses were still off-line and he was having difficulty focusing in on any one of them.

"Oh, god, Jim. I'm so sorry. I didn't think..."

The frantic voice was doing something that his own mind couldn't...helping him focus his senses back to normal.

"Blair?"

"Jim!" The hand that held his squeezed tighter before letting go. But before Jim could protest the loss of contact, his lover's hand began lightly stroking his cheek and he feft a whisper soft kiss brush across his lips.

He did protest when Blair pulled away from the kiss. "Blaaiiirrr."

Suddenly, his neck was surrounded by strong arms and his lap was full of his young lover. Tearful words were spoken into the curve of his throat.

"Oh, god, Jim. I am so sorry, man. I didn't think that you could zone out from all this. I know it's a lot. Too much for most people, but I just didn't think. I love the holidays and I've never celebrated them all together like this and I though it would be fun to try something different for a change and I've never been somewhere where I could do all this and get away with it and since this is our first holiday *together*, I thought it would be something to remember for a long time and..."

Jim would have bet that Blair could have continued his long stream of words into the night and figured he'd better stop the young anthropologist before it went any further. Cupping Blair's face between his two strong hands, Jim raised Blair's face until it was level with his own. He waited until Blair looked at him before saying anything.

"Are you finished?"

Blair nodded.

"Good." Jim kissed his partner softly on the lips. "Now," one more kiss, "Do you want to tell me -- *in English* -- what this is all about?"

Blair took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry, I..."

Jim placed a finger over Blair's lips. 

"No, I don't want an apology, I want an explanation. Okay?"

Blair nodded and kissed the finger still on his lips.

Jim removed his finger and Blair began, "I was at the mall last week and saw all the holiday decorations out and thought that it would be fun to do something here in the loft. I totally didn't think that it would mess up your senses. We've been to the mall dozen of times before and you've never zoned like this. I'm sorry, Jim." With each passing word, Blair's voice got a bit more frantic until he was practically hyperventilating.

"Blair, babe, calm down, okay?"

Blair had buried his head back into the hollow of Jim's throat and continued to repeat, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over.

Jim soothed his lover by rubbing his hands lightly over Blair's back. Up to his neck and slowly down to the top of his ass. Up and down. Up and down. Until finally, the tension in the younger man's body left and he was a boneless heap in Jim's lap.

"You okay, now?" Jim asked, quietly.

"Yeah," Blair whispered. After another silent moment, Blair said, "You just scared me."

Jim blinked at that and shifted around until he had Blair facing him. "What? Why?"

"'Why?'" Blair's voice rose as though he were getting hysterical again. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he said, "Because you were zoned for over forty minutes, man. I couldn't reach you for anything. I was able to walk you over to the couch and sit you down, but once I got you here, you just sat there and stared out at nothing." In a smaller voice, he continued, "You scared me, Jim."

"I'm sorry, babe. It must have been everything at once that threw me for a loop. First it was the smell; I could practically taste the pumpkin and pine and sandlewood. Then, it was the sight; the trees and lights and streamers. Then, I don't know...I saw you with the goofiest grin on your face looking at me like a little kid..." He reached up and removed a piece of pumpkin from Blair's forehead. "With this," he showed Blair the orange string, "all over you. I guess it was just too much."

Blair returned his head to its accustomed spot on Jim's shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry, babe."

"Shh, 's not your fault. You didn't know."

Wrong thing to say.

Blair's head shot up and he glared at Jim. "Well, I should have known, damnit!" He jumped up from his perch on Jim's lap. "It is my job after all. What good is it being a guide if I don't do what I'm supposed to?" 

He began to pace.

Jim was still tired from his zone and not in any mood to put up with one of Blair's mega-guilt trips. He laid his head back on the back of the couch and closed his eyes, half-heartedly listening to his partner continue to berate himself.

"...part of the job, you know. Being a shaman means knowing when your sentinel needs you. It means knowing what might trigger a zone-out. It means..." Blair cut himself off, but Jim was too exhausted to see why.

A weight settle down next to him and Jim cracked open an eye to see what Blair was up to. 

"Jim? You okay, babe?" Blair asked softly, stroking a hand gently across Jim's cheek.

"Kinda tired," Jim whispered.

"That zone must have done you in. Come on." Blair stood up and extended an arm, offering his hand to his sentinel.

Jim looked up into worried, loving eyes and smiled. He didn't say anything as he took his lover's hand and was pulled from the couch.

They slowly walked to the loft bedroom, but before Jim could take his first step up the stairs, a strong scent of woodberry hit him hard and he zoned. 

He found himself a few minutes later with an extremely worried guide standing on the first step, shaking his shoulders and calling his name.

"Jim? Jim?! Come on, man!"

He blinked several times. "Yeah, yeah, 'm okay."

With a skeptical look, Blair asked, "What was it this time?"

"One of those candle smells," Jim answered.

Jim watched as Blair looked around trying to find the source. His lover let him go and grabbed a green candle that was sitting on a corner of the bookshelf.

Stalking to the kitchen, Blair stated, "That's it. Everything goes." He was about to throw the candle in the trash when Jim grabbed ahold of his wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting rid of this shit." Blair tried to shake his wrist out of Jim's hand to no avail. "C'mon, Jim. I don't want you to zone every time you walk into a different part of the loft."

Taking the candle out of Blair's hand, Jim pulled his lover to him, wrapping the captured wrist and the other arm around his own waist. Then he put his arms around the smaller man and held them together in a bear-hug embrace.

Blair was stiff in his arms for a minute before giving in and melting into the warmth.

After several long minutes, he slowly pulled back and looked down at his love.

"You okay?"

Blair's head tipped up and he looked at Jim incredulously. "I should be asking you that."

Jim flushed a bit, then smiled. He still couldn't get over the fact that this man in his arms cared so damned much for him. He was constantly baffled.

"I'm fine, Chief. And you're not taking anything down." Before Sandburg could protest, Jim continued, "You said you've never been anywhere where you could decorate like this, and besides, all you have to do is help me dial down the smells. That's the main thing anyway."

Blair looked at Jim for a few long moments, trying to decipher whether or not Jim was telling the truth. Apparently deciding that Jim was not lying, Blair hugged Jim closer to him and breathed hotly against Jim's neck.

Jim suddenly got liquid-kneed, as his throat was his weak spot. If it weren't for Blair's strong support, Jim would have sunk to the ground.

"Whoa, there, big guy. Why don't we take this upstairs."

Still lost in a euphoric haze, Jim mumbled, "Mmm, 'kay." His head was still tipped backwards, encouraging more contact from his guide.

Blair bit down harder than usual to get his sentinel's attention.

"Mmm?" Jim brought his head back up and looked down at his lover.

"Upstairs?"

Jim smiled. "You're the boss."

A grin spread across Blair's face. "And, don't you forget it." He lead his sentinel to the slaughter. "Ho, ho, ho."


End file.
